


A Bloody Mess

by Canadian_BuckBeaver



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bats, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Character Turned Into Vampire, Crossdressing, Dreams and Nightmares, Fellcest - Freeform, Graphic Description, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Not brothers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thrall - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underfell Undyne, Undertail, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Violence, Warnings May Change, unrelated papyrus and sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_BuckBeaver/pseuds/Canadian_BuckBeaver
Summary: Based off of Eli-Sin-G's Vampire comic... Please enjoy!And have a very happy Halloween!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are over the age of 18 (Adults only) please be sure to check out Eli-Sin-G on Tumblr. They have fantastic other works there! Also be sure to follow me as I post my fanfic chapters there and pictures that give me inspiration...

            Sans looked at the flyer in his hand before he checked worn the town’s sign one last time.  Yes, “Snowdin”, exactly the same on the paper.  He had finally arrived.  Took him bloody long enough.  Grumbling, he looked around the small, cold place.  It really appeared to be a nothing more than a small, nothing town.  Nothing to be seen but cold snow and darkened pine trees for miles it seemed.  It was hard to believe that he had come all the way from Hotlands to this dreary little place.  But the G would make it all worth it.

            The flyer he held in his hand was well creased due to its many folds.  He had carried it in his pocket since he had again seen the advertisement.  At first, he had laughed it off.  He had thought that the first poster nothing more than an elaborate prank, April Fools being around the corner and all that shit.  And there was always one monster that thought that they could get the best of good, old Sans, the great pun-master, one and only prank enthusiast.  He was well-known to have tricked a many of monsters with his clever schemes over the years, causing a great many a G to fall into his desperate hands and pockets.  Not that it ever lasted there for long though.  His father, once the famed Royal Scientist of the Underground, had owed Muffet a great debt that she had regularly collected on.  However, once Gaster disappeared without a trace, the debt was then passed onto his only son.  A ‘fantastic’ inheritance if there ever was one, one fitting of Gaster’s legacy.

            Thus, when Sans had first seen it he had ignored it.  Some monster trying to win back their lost gold.  But the more that Sans saw it, the more that this poster appeared odd.  For one it looked official, like it had been printed and approved by the palace printers themselves.  And as the months went by, no one came to take down or claim the ratty poster, and no monster had chuckled and nudged him as he read it, trying to convince him to take this fabled job.  Instead, just the last month, exactly a month away from Halloween and the new full moon, a new poster had been hung in its place.  It looked almost identical, but there was an increase in the reward.

            ‘Wanted’, Sans had read out, ‘Priest or Vampire Slayer’.  He had snorted.  This was a country of monsters.  Was there really such a thing as a vampire slayer?  Regardless, he continued reading.  ‘Snowdin has fallen victim to a series of vampire attacks.  Pets and livestock have been found bitten and drained of blood.  Confirmed: one vampire.  Name: Papyrus Skeletor. Original Monster Species:  Skeleton. Stands at 6 feet tall, and has bloodshot eye lights with dark sockets.  Those who succeed in ridding the town of this great beast stand to gain 6,000,000,000 pieces of G’.  Sans had cackled.  A vampire?  Who did they think they were kidding?  It was probably just some punk-ass kid, bored out of his skull and dying to have some fun.  Puts on this little act to scare some townspeople and has finally taken it too far.

            It was the amount of G that had got the majority of Sans’ attention.  With that amount he could finally pay off his father’s debt, rent a house or even an apartment that didn’t overlook the damp whore-ally and live comfortably for the rest of his days.  For a small town to offer so much though, was really quite unusual.  They must be just desperate to see this creature gone, dusted, dead.  It was here that Sans’ plan had started to form.  It wasn’t very complicated.  Come across some monk or lookalike clothing (steal the brown fabric that Alphys had been storing for her cosplay costume) – check.  Google monk uniform on the underweb and find suitable pattern to use– check.  Tie rope around his waist for added authenticity – check.  He looked at himself in the mirror.  He looked almost monk-like he had to admit.  There was one important item missing though.

            The silver cross.  As the most significant symbol of the faithful it would be very suspicious for him to waltz into town without one, it would be like showing up to work without pants.  Silver was hard to come by too.  If it was found it was immediately surrendered to the castle, where the royal monarchs did as they wished with it.  Probably hoarded it like a pair of greedy dragons.  However, Sans was inventive as fuck though.  This was something that Gaster had drilled into him since a young age.  “ _If you can’t find the solution to one question, find another way!_ ” he commonly said as they worked together in the lab.   Sometimes Sans missed working in the lab with the old coot.  Sure he was off is rocker and insane, but working on the core and working at taking back the surface from those fucking humans had given him purpose and drive.

            Sans had spent days in the dump, digging through nasty human trash, discovering everything wet, slimy and mouldy, until at last he found what he was looking for.  He had found a plastic cross necklace, nothing overly large, nor anything too small that had been hiding in a soaked box labeled “the tickle trunk” – the ‘e’ facing the wrong way.  As he looked at this necklace he realized it was plastic, not silver.  Thinking of throwing it back and see what else he could fine he suddenly swore that he could hear his father’s triumphant cackle in his ear.  Sans could almost imagine this as one last ‘f-you!’ present from the old man.  One last puzzle to solve, one that he didn’t imagine his son being able to.  Immediately taking the necklace for himself, he made his way back to his shitty apartment where he spend the next hour meticulously cleaning it, ensuring that every last speck of dirt or slime was removed.  Slipping into his ‘monk’ outfit, Sans dropped the necklace over his skull and admired himself in the mirror.  His red eyes drifted up and down his body, carefully looking at the creases and folds of the brown fabric that covered his bones, the twine that wrapped around his waist, cinching the draping fabric in, the cross didn’t look half-bad as long as it was mostly covered by his drooping collar, no one should notice the tacky phoniness of it.  He narrowed his sockets at his gold tooth, monks were not supposed to adorn themselves with precious metals or vanities.  It made them “less close to God”.  Sans snorted at the thought.  The tooth itself had been caused by a long ago lab accident.  Perhaps he could say that it happened before his monkhood?  A half-truth never hurt anyone.

            Taking one last glance at himself, Sans picked up his travel bag (full of bottles with “holy water”, garlic and stakes) and left the apartment.  By now not caring who saw him in this ridiculous get-up.  When he had the G in his hands, the fake vampire’s dust on his hands, he would be the one laughing at them.

* * * * *

            Sans entered the little town, doing his best to appear humble and kind.  With sharpened teeth and fingers, it was impossible to look anything but mean.  As he walked up what he assumed to be Main Street, he saw monsters staring at him, their mouths gaping wide or eagerly whispering to their friends.  Sans hid a smile with his collar.  This was too easy.  He could practically taste the G already.

            He made himself up to the center of town, where a proud Christmas tree stood, a few presents tossed under.  Turning around, Sans realized that the townspeople had followed him here.  Good.  That would make his job so much easier.

            He cleared his throat, thinking of the soothing, deep tones that he had imagined that the monks spoke their kind, false words in.  “ **who is the mayor or leader of this town?** ” he asked the people gathered around him.  They all looked to their neighbours and immediately started whispering more.  Sans could have frowned.  How rude of them.  This was not how you treated a holy man, err monster.

            “I answer to that title, yer lordship,” a rough voice gasped out from behind.  Sans turned and saw a fish woman making her way towards him.  Her long, flowing red hair was tied up and back into a high ponytail, her scales glistening as if she had just finished a swim.

            Sans sighed quietly in disgust.  Fish monsters were the absolute worse monsters to deal with, even worse than spiders.  They were always… slippery to deal with.

            Sans turned to her and bowed his head slightly in a sign of respect, “ **blessing be upon you my child.  my name is Sans,** ” he started, “ **I arrive from the monastery in the east, Novena,** ” he said.  “ **we have heard of your troubles and they have sent me to help you, with the help of His Grace.** ” Sans said, hoping his story sounded at least a little believable.

            The fish tipped her head towards the smaller skeleton, “Greetings your Holiness, my name is Undyne.  I lead this place now since the death of our last mayor.”

            Sans sighed deeply and marked the sign of a cross with his moving hand, starting from the tip of his skull, tapping down at his sternum before touching his left clavicle, and then his right.  “ **may the Lord have mercy on his soul, and may it find his eternal rest** ” Sans said.  ‘Do not throw up,’ he sternly reminded himself.  “ **may I inquire to what happened to him?** ”

            Undyne sighed.  “He foolishly tried to attack the vampire, Papyrus, on his own without any back up.  Papyrus bit through the skin and bone like it was paper.  There was nothing that we could do except watch him slowly dust.”

            Sans quietly gulped behind his fake robes.  Up to this point he was not expecting to be dealing with a real vampire.  But from Undyne described could only be done through a very powerful monster.  Perhaps it really was a vampire running amok…?

            Sans shook his head, clearing the thought.  No.  Vampires only existed in the imaginations of many, and the pages of a book.  There was no way, no feasible explanation for their existence.  None of the finest sciences or modern medicines could biologically change a monster’s body to match that of a vampire.  It would take millions of years in the slow evolution process before nature had created anything close to what they were describing.  A fantastical being of super speed, sharp, constantly re-growing fangs to slice into the thickest of necks, an instable thirst for blood, extreme strength… Ok the last one could be achieved through the use of steroids and training but the others were deemed impossible.

            Sans sighed and grabbed Undyne’s hands with his own.  “ **do not worry my child.  I will take care of this creature and make sure that he bothers you no more… I myself shall bless him and send him to God’s graces…** ” he said tipping his forehead to the scaly hands.  How disgusting they were.  He just wanted to get out of here with the money.

            Undyne sniffed and nodded.  Sans, once again trying to hide back a smirk.  She was a little emotional which played perfectly into his hands.

            “ ’cuse me, mister!” a small called out from the group.  Sans turned around.  It was a little baby bunny, still young enough to have its’ milk teeth.

            Sans tried to hide his annoyance and muttered curse.  Damnit he wanted to get out of here, now.  The more time he spend here meant he had to work longer to get the G in his hands and stay in this pathetic town.  He remembered what he had seen of monks on the old shows.  Instead he widened his boney smile and looked down at the little bunny.  “ **yes my child?** ” he asked, “ **what is it?** ”

            The rabbit looked up at him with big, expressive, chocolate brown eyes.  Curiosity and wonder was sketched deep into those.  “How are you doing to send him to God?  God only takes good, right?  And with him being a vampire, well that means he’s evil and soulless… right?”

            Sans chucked and rubbed the top of the bunny’s head.  “ **you are a very clever one,** ” he said, carefully phrasing his words, “ **but I know just what to do.  you see, in my bag I have lots of holy water, which shall purify the remains his soul as I pray for his mercy.  after God has given me a sign that he has forgiven him, I start a holy fire and stab him through the heart, or soul, sending him instantly to God, where God will forgive him…** ” he trailed off seeing the young one’s puzzled reaction.  Shit, did he do something?

            “But Momma,” the small rabbit was saying to whom Sam assumed to be his mom, a skinny, pure white rabbit, “Holy Water kills vampires, doesn’t it?”

            Sans felt his sockets widen.  Shit.  Found out by a baby monster.  He suddenly felt arms grab him from under his armpits.  “ **hey!** ” he called out, “ **release me at once or Father Timothy…** ”

            “Father Timothy has been dust for a week,” hissed Undyne.  “He came here to take over for mayor, show us the better way of doing things when he tried the purification ceremony on the vampire and died.  You aren’t no monk,” she spat, “do you think we haven’t dealt with your kind before, faker?  That reward attracts a lot of monsters you know.  Though, I have to admit your, the best actor out of all of them…” she snarled, the eye not covered by the eyepatch sharpening until the pupil was more of a sharp, serpentine slit in a sea of yellow.

            Sans began to struggle, trying to desperately wiggle out of her iron-grip.  He had to get away.  With his 1 HP disorder he was easy prey for those who collected EXP and was constantly attacked for it.  He was usually on his guard though and was able to chase them off, if not dust them himself.  This time, he was well and truly fucked though.

            “Get him!” she called to the other villagers, and they too started screaming and raising their fists to him, advancing.  Sans gulped.  This wasn’t good.  At this point he would be dusted where he stood!

            Mercifully, after the first 20 hits, he blacked out, the eternally deep darkness lulling him off to an indefinite sleep.  ‘Sorry Gaster’, he thought as his sockets fell shut, ‘one last nap on the job… I promise…’

* * * * *

            Sans woke with a start panting.  What an awful nightmare.  Well, truth be told he had worse but still, it was so realistic.  Passing a hand over his eye he realized that he was very warm and comfortable.  The soft sheets cradled his body, the pillows and the mattress soft yet just firm enough to provide support.  The fineness of the products alone signalled to Sans that he was not at home.  Another was the colour of the room.  The sheets and curtain surrounding the bed were a deep ruby red, the walls a base yellow.

            “ **where am I?** ” he wondered aloud, staring at the fine furniture and paintings around him.  He then spared a look down at himself.

            “ **AND WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN WEARING???** ” he called out, staring at himself in shock.  He was dressed in a lacy, yet silky pink nightgown with a white ruffled collar, a pink choker and tag around his throat.  No matter how drunk he got last night, there was no way in hell that he dressed himself like this, or would allow someone to dress him like this.

            A deep, rich voice finally sounded.  “YOU’RE FINALLY AWAKE, HMMM?”

            Jolting up in shock, Sans cried out, “ **who’s there?** ” before looking around the room one more time.  Too his surprise a tall, graceful skeleton stood in front of him, dressed in a deep blue, decorated with gold threat, a red vest, gloves and ascot around the cervical vertebrae.  His eyes were the deepest red and there were four prominent fangs jutting from his upper jaw.  It only took Sans a moment to realize who this was.  The so-called vampire from his flyer, Papyrus Skeletor.  “ **you!** ” he called out, snarling, “ **you’re the one that the villagers were talking about!  what did you do?** ” he demanded, “ **why did you kidnap me here?** ”

            Papyrus looked unimpressed.  Giving a soft, annoyed sigh, he set down his mug on a nearby table and perched himself, like an exotic bird, on the edge of Sans’ bed.  Sans immediately tucked his feet under him, making himself as a small as target as possible.  He didn’t want be any closer to this weirdo as his had to.  Ringing his hands in his nervous habit he stared at the vampire beside him until he finally began to speak.  “I WAS THE ONE THAT SAVED YOU, YOU IMBECILE.  I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WERE DUMB ENOUGH TO LIE TO THOSE FOLKS, SAYING THAT YOU WERE A PRIEST?  AND THAT YOU COULD DEFEAT ME?  YOUR CROSS WASN’T EVEN MADE FROM SILVER…”  Papyrus chuckled, finding this especially amusing.  Sans just silently pouted.  His plan was nowhere near flawless but he had thought that he would have come closer to collecting his reward than he did.  Papyrus continued speaking, eyeing him in an amused manner.  “YOU THOUGHT IT WAS EASY MONEY, DIDN’T YOU?  NO WONDER THEY BEAT YOU HALF TO DEATH.”

            Sans paused, remembering the angry faces of the townspeople as they swarmed him, the first hits as they slowly caused his 1 HP to trickle into the decimal points, becoming smaller and smaller with each hit.  As he thought about the attack, he even remembered his gold tooth becoming loose and him spitting it out into the snow.  But as he moved his tongue around his mouth, he could still feel a full row of teeth.  That was odd, but he decided not to dwell on it, instead listening to more of what Papyrus had to say.

            “AND YOU WERE BLEEDING QUITE BADLY,” Papyrus continued, losing his amused look and now looking, dare Sans say, concerned?  “I HAD TO GIVE YOU MY BLOOD FOR YOU TO SURVIVE, MAKING YOU A VAMPIRE AND MY THRALL.”

            Sans jumped, and stared at this monster, his expression changing from mildly interested to dumbfounded.  “ **you did WHAT?** ” he asked.  A vampire was bad enough, if Papyrus really was one and not just unfortunate enough to look like the creature of lore and legends.  But a thrall?  Basically a brainless zombie who mindlessly followed his master’s orders?  You had to be shitting him.  There was no way in hell that he’d listen to this asshole.

            A clawed, gloved hand reached out, grasping Sans boney, yet soft and squishy cheek, stunning him to silence, a slight pink blush appearing on his cheekbones.  Papyrus did not appear to notice the flush, instead staring inside Sans’ mouth as if looking for something.  ‘Dude should have been a dentist’ Sans thought to himself, eyeing Papyrus gleamingly sharp smile.  “WOULD YOU PREFER TO HAVE BLEED TO DEATH IN THE COLD THEN?” Papyrus asked him rhetorically, already knowing the answer was no.  Mortals share a common fear of the unknown and of death,  “LOOK AT THIS RIGHT HERE,” he continued on, scratching gently against Sans’ tooth, “YOUR LITTLE FANGS ARE ALREADY STARTING TO GROW.  SOON YOU’LL TURN INTO A VAMPIRE…” he mockingly cooed to the other skeleton as he continued to eye his handiwork.

            Sans quickly slapped his away, wrenching himself out of the sheets and off the bed.  Papyrus was a little stunned.  Being brought back after being so close to death, he shouldn’t be able to move like that.  “ **this is bullshit!** ”  Sans called out as he jumped out off the bed, “ **I’m getting out of here!** ” he said, leaving Papyrus sitting on the bed.  As Sans went to march away, carrying the yards of ruffled skirts, there was a red ribbon of magic at his feet, speeding ahead of him.  Within a blink of his socket, it had disappeared.  ‘Odd,’ thought Sans, glancing around for it.

            “LEAVING ALREADY?” a familiar rumbling voice asked him.  Sans squeaked and back up two steps to avoid running into the leering monster.  “YOU CAN’T SURVIVE ON YOUR OWN AS A YOUNG VAMPIRE.  AND YOU’RE CERTAINLY IN NO CONDITION TO BE RUNNING AROUND IN MY CASTLE THOUGH…~”

            Sans tried to back up a few more steps, only to become ensnared in the other skeleton’s arms.  One hand rested in the small of his back, tracing the seam of the dress, the other jostling Sans’s head to one side, bearing his neck for the other as he inched his skull towards him.

            “YOU’RE ONLY A LESSER VAMPIRE,” Papyrus continued, eyeing the expense of white bones now bared to him.  “YOUR POWERS ARE MUCH WEAKER THAN MINE.  SILVER CAN EASILY KILL YOU… YOU’D BE USELESS WITHOUT ME…” he huskily whispered into Sans’ ear, causing him to shiver.  Papyrus continued to stare at those gorgeous bones in front of him.  “MAYBE I SHOULD LEAVE A MARK ON YOUR BODY… JUST TO REMIND YOU WHO YOU BELONG TO…” inching his mouth ever closer, his breath, tickling the exposed bones.

            Sans jumped and tried to squirm free of his gasp.  “ **w-wait!  no!** ” he said, gasping as he felt his choker being pulled to one side.  He felt four sharpened teeth brush gently against his neck.  “ **please!  no!** ” he begged the other as he felt those teeth squeeze down ever so gently, already he could feel a few freed drops of marrow.  Bracing himself for pain he gasped audibly as the teeth were removed, replaced with a gelatinous organ that traced his neck, lapping at the few drops of marrow.  Sans shivered.  How did it… how did it feel so good?  He must be an even more twisted fucker than he originally thought if a small bite and lick made him shiver like a bitch in heat. 

            When Papyrus released him, Sans immediately made for the bed, jumping and settling himself back on it.  Away from this erotic monster.  “ **ok, ok!** ” he said, moving ever backwards as Papyrus advanced towards him.  “ **I get it now!  I won’t leave!** ”

            Papyrus chuckled lowly, sounding like rumbling thunder in the midnight sky.  He shrugged off his coat, tossing it to a nearby desk chair.  “THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH,” he said, openly admiring Sans body in the dress.  “YOU NEED TO BE DISCIPLINED…”  the slight purr of his voice left no openings to what sort of discipline he had in mind for his captive.

            Sans let out a sharp “ **yeep!** ” feeling one of Papyrus’ knees tease it’s way between the dress’ opening.  “ **w-what are you going to do to me?** ” he dumbly asked, staring up at the vampire.

            He made the mistake of making eye contact with the monster.  Red met red, hungry met inquisitive.  “I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT WITH YOU,” Papyrus informed him, purposefully ignoring giving a real answer to the question.  “I COULD EVEN KILL YOU RIGHT NOW.” he said, more to himself that Sans.

            Sans gulped.  As Papyrus’ thrall, it was true.  Papyrus could easily order him to kill himself or just to simply die and Sans would.  No one would miss him.  Just another dust pile in the eye of this world.  He felt strong hands grasp him by the middle and pull him towards Papyrus, twisting and readjusting him so he lay on the bed.  Papyrus hovered just over top of him, allowing just enough of his weight to settle on top of Sans, keeping him pinned.  Although Sans could wiggle, there was no way that he could escape.  Readjusting his pelvis so it lay in between Sans’ legs he bent his head to Sans’ ear and huskily whispered to him.  “YOU’RE VERY LUCKY.  I AM A MERCIFUL PERSON, AT LEAST ON GOOD DAYS…. SO TELL ME ‘PRIEST’,” putting a great amount of emphasis on the fake title, “WHO ARE YOU GOING TO SERVE?”

            Sans gulped.  This intimate position and Papyrus’ voice made him feel like he was going to be devoured.  In more ways than one.  Flushing a heavy red he stuttered “ **y-you… I belong to you from now on, m-master** ”

            Papyrus chuckled again, this time in amusement.  “Atta boy~” he whispered, dropping a tender skeleton kiss to Sans’s cheek as he gently ground their hips together, causing Sans to shiver and gasp at the contact.  Arching his neck further as Papyrus gave another nibble to the vertebrae, giving him better access to the bones.

            Suddenly the pleasure was gone.  Papyrus’ voice rang out over Sans’ stunned form.  “NOW REST UP.” He ordered.  “YOU WILL NEED THE ENERGY TO GO HUNTING.”

            Sans lay still for a second, still feeling Papyrus’ phantom weight and heat over his body.  The small part of his mind whimpered at the loss.  Huffing to himself he grabbed the sheets of the bed and wrapped himself up in their scarlet glory, muttering angrily to himself.  “ **why did that asshole bother saving me anyway… to hell I would be able to be a suitable vampire thrall…”**   He rolled over onto his other side, wrapping himself up much like a burrito.  “ **I fucking hate his smug ass face… what the fuck did I get myself into?** ” he asked himself, his sockets again lidding shut, losing the battle against his sleep deprived body.

            A little skeleton bat lay unnoticed on the other side of the bed, listening to Sans’ angry mutterings.  He eyed the smaller red skeleton as the other drifted off to sleep.  “AHH SANS,” Papyrus thought to himself “IF ONLY YOU KNEW WHAT I HAVE IN STORE FOR YOU…” with that, he fluttered off to his own chambers, he too more than ready to sleep away the day, and rise in the dark, ready to feed on the blood of others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is sleeping through the transformation period where he becomes a vampire like his master, Papyrus. But a strange creature approaches and warns him of upcoming events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little transition and foreshadowing while we slowly inch our way into the story...
> 
> Big thanks to BabyPizzaWonderLand for listening to me ramble and helping me sort out my ideas!

**Chapter Two**

 

Sans blinked, staring at the moving white and black optic surroundings.  He had… he had seen this before, he swore.  Why on Asgore’s land did it look so familiar?  He wished it would the surroundings would stop moving for a second.  It was making him extremely light-headed and he was beginning to feel nauseated.  Looking down at his clothing in an effort to stop everything from swimming he saw that he was wearing his familiar shorts and jacket…  Well, at least he was out of that stupid dress-thing, into some real clothes.  Now he just needed to figure out where he was, and if he could get back home from here.

 

            Trying to find something else to stabilize his vision on, he allowed his eyes to roam the little room that he was in.  It seemed as if this fucking white and black moving void was everywhere.  Surrounding him, cornering him…

 

            Wait…

 

            The ‘Void’?  Now why did that name sound familiar as well?

 

            Sans closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it of the distant whispers of thoughts and the consistent de ja vu feelings.  When he opened his sockets however, all was a blank white.  The black looked like it had retreated from the walls entirely, allowing the plain, eerie white to close him in with no sign of escape.  Sans gulped.  He almost wished that the black had chosen to remain behind.  Instead, the pile of black paint looked to be in a coagulated pile in front of him.  How disgusting.

 

            Staring at it, Sans was suddenly struck by another eerie, familiar feeling.  He had seen this pile before.  But that was impossible… right?

 

            Suddenly the pile shuddered and began to twist and turn, rising in the blankness of the Void.  Sans tried to scream in terror and move but he found that he had no voice, he had no air to vibrate the little bones in his skull to give him the power of speech.  Sans couldn’t move his body either, he was frozen in place as this pile manifested itself.  He could only stare as he stared and shuddered in quiet horror as the goop stretched itself out, forming a vague shape of…

 

            Another skeleton?  He was dressed in long, flowing black robes, so unfitting it looked like a ballroom dress.  Yet there was something, skeletorial about it.

 

            With this realization, a thin, white face, so ghostly pale and cracked it appeared to be a well-used mask, floated to the front of the “thing”.  A ghastly crescent moon smile and two empty eye sockets, both cracked – one, the creature’s right, to the top of the skull, while the other, the left socket, was cracked down its cheekbone.  It said nothing, only staring straight at Sans.  Sans could only stare dumbly at it.  Unable to move, unable to speak… would this be how he died?  By a pile of living paint?  Well, he knew he was lame, not to mention a rotten and damned skeleton, but was he truly that lame?  That was just unfair!

 

            Two floating hands appeared, a gaping hole through the palm of each one, moving up in a gesture of surrender, or of peace while its eye sockets finally lit with small, simple white lights for pupils.  Sans still could only stare at this weird-ass pile of living goo.  It was starting to give up familiar vibes to him, like he had met it, or known it from somewhere before… why?  This along with this place, it was beginning to creep the hell out of him.

 

            The hands started to move, signing to him.  Sans watched the hands carefully, not wanting to miss a word or letter.  The pile of goop was signing single letters to him, slowly, trying to get him to understand:

  1. **_A. N.  S_** – it said.



 

            Well shit.  It knew his name so it must know him.  If that was the case then why the fuck did he not remember who it was?

 

            The signing continued, this time using complete words:

**_Do you not know how to greet your old man?  Come closer… and shake my hand…_ **

 

            Sans stared at it in disbelief.  ‘ **this was Gaster?  how?** ’ Sans thought before he, slowly and shakily, extended his hand to the monster.  The monster too extended a single, damaged palm towards him.  When they touched a bright, harsh light exploded behind Sans sockets, causing him to shriek in pain and surprise.  Images flashed with these light, Sans as a baby bones wrapped up in a small blanket, being held by whoever was holding him.  Sans grabbing hold of a wall, and pulling himself up, before turning around and shooting the one watching him a wide eyed amazed look before breaking out into a beautiful baby smile.  Sans, his two front milk teeth missing, drinking a glass of milk with the straw in the hole, much to Sans’ amusement.  Sans, dressed with a little jacket and backpack, on his first day of monster school.  Sans dressed in his white lab coat, sipping on a cup of coffee going over Gaster Blaster notes.  Sans, motionless in the monster’s arms, covered with soot, dust and blood, a single tooth missing due to an explosion in the lab.  And then Sans, screaming and reaching out to this monster, as he was pulled backwards into nothingness, the Void closing around him.

 

            Sans gasped as he ripped open his eye sockets and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.  He still held the other monster’s hand, the other know looking at him with concern.  “ **G-G-Gaster?** ” he stuttered out.  “ **How…? What? Why…?** ”

 

            Gaster removed his hand from Sans and began to sign again:

**_What have I told you about asking questions, S.A.N.S?  Know what you’re asking first, so you don’t stutter out incomprehensibly, or so you at least have an idea of what you are looking for before you form your hypothesis for your experiment…_ **

 

            Sans flushed and snorted “ **still a fucking smart ass as ever, eh old man?** ”  Gaster’s grin grew a little larger, almost deranged with Sans’ comment.  “ **so what happened to you, leaving me with the rest of the bills and everything…** ” Sans asked, getting uncharacteristically straight to the point, without a pun.  “ **last i saw of you, you were being sucked into some portal thing… i guess this is where you ended up?** ” he asked.

 

            Gaster’s face dropped instantly.  The slight twinkle in his eyes disappeared and surrendered to an indescribable black blankness.  Sans knew something was wrong.  Suddenly Gaster was in his face, his jagged mouth gapping open with razer sharp teeth fully exposed, a strange strangled hissing escaping his throat, and, finally, a hoarse voice finally escaping his long silent throat:

**_BE WARY OF THE FISH WHO WALKS LIKE A MAN._ **

**_THE ONES WHO SHARE A THIRST FOR BLOOD ARE AMONG THE INNOCENT PROVEN GUILTY.  THEY MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS FOR THE WORLD SHALL FIND NEED OF THEM IN THREE MOONS TIME._ **

****

            Sans stumbled back, finally able to move as Gaster shrieked his warnings.  Once Gaster finished, it seemed like he had lost all energy and began to disintegrate into dust before his eyes.  “ **no!** ” he shouted, trying to grab hold of his father.  “ **you can’t leave now!  don’t you dare leave me again, especially after what you just said!  i have so many questions!  Gaster!** ” he shouted, who paid no mind to his son in front of him.  “ **father!** ” he tried again.

 

            The hands, the last of his body to crumple away, began to sign again:

**_I’m sorry S.A.N.S… I have failed you again…_ **

 

            Sans could only watch as his father disappeared again.  He sat on his tailbone, feeling numb.  What could Gaster mean?  A fish who walks like a man?  And those who thirst for blood…?  Gaster never changed.  He always raised more questions than answers, even when they worked together in his lab he always acted this way.  Almost expecting Sans to either read his mind like a fucking physic or to figure out the answers within seconds of them being asked.

 

            A strange whistling sound filled Sans’ ear holes.  Looking up and around he saw that the entire room was being sucked mercilessly into a vortex.  The walls, the roof, Gaster’s dust… nothing escaped its howling fury…

 

            Not even Sans himself.

 

            Sans screamed, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.  Anything.  A tile.  A corner, perhaps?  But the vacuum was too strong.  Sans found his grip failing and he was pulled, screaming, into the vortex, into the nothingness that awaited him….

 

* * * * *

 

            The next thing he was aware of was that he was being shaken awake.  Waking with a gasp, he sat up quickly, tangled in the blankets like a burrito, his dress somehow twisted the wrong way around, the sweat pouring off of him and his teeth chattering.

 

            The vampire, Papyrus watched him awaken with a slow amused smile, as Sans tried to pull himself out of the remains of his slumber.  “ **ugh… and what the hell do you want, fucker?** ” he asked, his hand covering his eyes.

 

            Chuckling, Papyrus replied with a question of his own, “IS THAT ANYWAY TO SPEAK TO YOUR MASTER, THRALL?” he asked, a single brow bone raised.

 

            Sans sighed and wiped his skull with his hands.  “ **f-forgive me Master,** ” he tried again, “ **h-h-how can i serve you?** ” he said, his slight stutter returning.

 

            “FIRST OF ALL YOU WILL BATHE AND RETRIEVE A NEW DRESS FROM THE CLOSET,” Papyrus said, “IT SEEMS AS IF YOUR NIGHT TERROR MADE YOU MORE THAN A LITTLE UNSANITARY…”

 

            Sans looked down at himself and groaned.  Sure enough, he had sweat right through the fabric.  “ **yes, M-Master,** ” he stuttered again, moving to get off the bed.

 

            “AND BE SURE THAT YOU SEE TO IT THAT YOU HURRY,” Papyrus said, an odd glint in his eye lights matching his ruby jacket and scarf he wore, “YOU’VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR A WEEK DUE TO YOUR TRANSFORMATIONS, SO WE’LL BE GOING HUNTING ONCE YOU RETURN.  IT’S TIME FOR YOUR FIRST MEAL.”  He said with a slight chuckle.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Sans' first hunting lesson. Now Papyrus is a willing teacher, but is Sans a willing student? When it comes to balancing the innocent and guilty, does it really matter in the end?
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVY GORE, BLOOD, AND CHARACTER DEATH

   
Sans was walking briskly beside the other skeleton, attempting to keep pace with the large monster.  They were outside the great castle, walking towards Papyrus’ favourite hunting grounds.  Sans looked around in surprise.  The moon was shining, full and round in the night sky.  Wasn’t there a sliver of it missing when he had fist come to the little town?  This, when partnered with his stiff and aching joints, this was further proof that Papyrus wasn’t lying about just how long that he had been out for. 

Perhaps he really had slept for a week inside the damned castle…

Though he was still tired and weary as if he hadn’t slept, he thought to himself, stifling a quick yawn behind his hand.  Papyrus glared at him quickly, as if he had broken his concentration as they continued to walk to nowhere.

But as for the transformation, Sans found this hard to believe for himself.  He felt exactly the same as before.  Just as small, just as weak, with even the same burning pain across his sternum from a lab accident so long ago.  Yet, the vampire insisted that he had seen change in the skeleton, longer incisors, a spark in his eyes, and his bones that were more slender, sleek.  As part of his delusions he was expecting him to perform his “servant duties”.  This included fetching a specific black cloak from the closet of identical other black cloaks, shining his shoes, trying to open the heavy-ass front door for him, and now being expected to keep pace with the giant monster.

And he was still stuck in this stupid dress, for whatever kinky, stupid reason the vampire had for that.

Sans grumbled, pulling down the long sleeves and rubbing at the thin fabric.  Although the dress wasn’t revealing – no bones other than his skull, hands and feet were seen, it was about as thick as a screen door.  He could feel the chill of the air, every drop of dew on the grass… perhaps this was what Papyrus meant by his transformation?  Being more sensitive, or “delicate”, to temperatures?

If so, being a vampire sucked… pun very much intended. 

Sans cursed, stumbling over the hem of his dress.  Seizing the sides of it, he hitched it up slightly, just enough so it avoided being dragged through the grass, less of chance of him tripping over it.  He caught Papyrus glancing at him and felt himself flush when Papyrus smiled and chuckled.  It wasn’t his fault he now had to look like a damn princess!

“Where the fuck are we going?” Sans demanded after ten minutes of silence.  The trees surrounded the castle and he could hear the random animal noises coming from it.  Freaked him out.  Made him want to turn around, run back into the castle and fall asleep for another week or three.

“I TOLD YOU ALREADY.  WE ARE GOING HUNTING.” Papyrus told him, still not slowing his pace.

Sans rolled his eyes.  “Yes you said that before, but where and for what?” Sans asked him again, huffing.

Papyrus sighed and turned to the smaller monster, finally slowing his accursed footsteps.  “DO YOU KNOW WHAT A VAMPIRE MONSTER FEEDS ON?” Papyrus asked Sans, his red eyes glinting with mischief.

“Blood.  Duh.” Sans growled.

Papyrus nodded sarcastically towards Sans, most annoyingly picking up the pace again.

“But that’s another question!  Why blood?” Sans cursed again, trying to run to catch up to his master.  “Isn’t there other things that such monsters can feed on?  Like normal food?  Hamburgers would be so much better than hunting around in a God-forsaken wasteland.”

Papyrus hummed his thought, as if in deep thought.  “DO YOU KNOW WHAT PRIMARILY MAKES UP A MONSTER’S MAGIC?” He finally asked.

Oh great.  Now he’s teaching him a flash course on Monster Biology 101.  “Protein.” Sans said.

“EXACTLY.  NOW.  IT WOULD BE ONE THING IF VAMPIRE MONSTERS WERE ‘NORMAL’ MONSTERS, THAN WE COULD EAT THE ‘NORMAL’ FOOD AND THE ‘BURGER’ AS YOU SUGGESTED.”  Just by the way that Papyrus said burger, Sans realized that Papyrus had no idea what it was.  “HOWEVER, WHEN WE YOU UNDERGO THE TRANSFORMATION TO BECOME A VAMPIRE, THE BODY NEEDS MORE MAGIC.  BOTH FOR THE INITIAL TRANSFORMATION, AND THEN FOR THE REST OF THE VAMPIRE’S LIFE.  TO SUPPORT THIS, THE BODY FIRSTS RIDS ITSELF OF MANY ORGANS SO THE BODY HAS INCREASED ROOM TO STORE THE EXTRA MAGIC IT WILL NEED.” Papyrus explained.  “THE GALLBLADDER, LIVER, STOMACH, AND APPENDIX ARE ALWAYS THE FIRST TO GO.  WITHOUT THE DIGESTIVE SYSTEM, YOUR BODY WILL FIND IT HARD TO DIGEST REGULAR FOOD TO GET THE PROTEIN THAT IT REQUIRES.  THUS, THE VAMPIRE FEEDS ON BLOOD.  PURE PROTEIN AND EASILY DIGESTABLE.”  Papyrus concluded.

Sans nodded.  This made some sort of sense…  “Wait.  We’re skeletons.  We don’t have organs to begin with!”  He glared at a little beaver who was lounging by the river.  The animal just shrugged.  Great.  No answer from the locals either.

Papyrus suddenly pushed him behind a bush, not even a warning given.  Sans opened his mouth to snarl something but Papyrus covered his jaw and squeezed tightly.  “Shhh….” He whispered, his loud voice gone, a cool hunter’s voice replacing it.  “Do you hear that?”

It took Sans a bit.  He heard the typical sounds of the forest.  Animals were making their sleepy noises as the settled down for the night, there was a few owls hooting, a creek gurgling somewhere further in the forest… footsteps creeping down the old path.

Sans’ eyes widened as he saw the woman.  She really was nothing much to look at, normal in all cases of the word.  Her brown hair was unremarkable, hanging straight down to her shoulders, she wasn’t that much bigger than Sans, though she was a little fleshier than the other humans that he had seen around Snowdin.  She was trying hard to creep through the forest without making much noise, as if she was scared that she would be heard.  “Antonio?” he heard a soft voice ask.  “Antonio?  Where are you?”

“This place is known as the Lover’s Lay,” Papyrus explained to the other skeleton.  “You can probably guess why.  Very private here, not many people come down this way.”  Papyrus grinned at Sans.  “And it looks like someone has been stood up. Stay here.  This is the perfect opportunity for you to learn the fine technique for blood sucking.”  Papyrus quietly got up and began to sneak closer to the human.  He moved stealthily, not a sound escaped his well-polished leather shoes, not a twig cracked under his feet.

“Antonio?” the human woman asked again, looking around the clearing, this time a bit more desperately.  Sans had a gut feeling that she was looking for Antonio and had no idea that they were there… that her life was in danger.

Papyrus crept closer, keeping to the shadows of the trees and bushes, the only sign of him his glowing red eyes, and the impossibly soft beating of his soul.  He was now hidden in the final tree surrounding the clearing, as close as he could get to the human without revealing himself.  Those red eyes stared at the woman, calculating and hungry.

Sans gulped, transfixed by Papyrus’ moves.  He reminded Sans of a snake.  Every move was precise and calculated, all moving towards his goal of grabbing the woman.  Did… did Sans want this to happen?  She was innocent!  Wrong place!  Wrong time!  Stood up by her stupid lover…  Sans scrambled back slightly, his boney hands rubbing against a rock on the trail…

Causing the slightest little bit of noise.

“Antonio?” The woman turned to where Sans sat, frozen in fear.  “Antonio… I knew you wouldn’t leave me here alone….” she began to move closer to Sans, relief beginning to cloud her face and judgement.

Sans scrambled backwards, trying to get away from her but she kept coming towards him.  There was nowhere to hide, not now!  She pulled across the leaves of the bush and stared at Sans.  In the moment that they stared at each other, her with a horrified look, leaning against the foliage like she depended on it, and Sans still sitting on the cold floor of the forest, his soul hammering in his chest.  Fear pulsed, ripe and fresh between the two of them.

“W-what… who are you?” she asked, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Papyrus clasped a hand to her shoulder.  “NOT ANTONIO.” He said simply, before his other hand grabbed the woman’s face.  She began to scream and panic, pulling at Papyrus’ fingers as they slowly began to dig into her face.  She stomped on his feet, punched at his ribs, trying to pry him off of her.

It didn’t work.

With a swift movement, Papyrus’ arm jerked, separating the woman’s skull from her neck, the sound of ripping muscle and tendons filling the forest’s air, the woman’s screams instantly dying.  Blood splattered everywhere, still pumping with her shocked and failing heartbeat.  The head was tossed to the side.  As Sans watched her mouth still moved, a silent scream attempting to escape, the tongue bobbing in her mouth, and her eyes, those piercing green eyes, slowly rolling up behind the socket, only the dusty whites of her eyes being seen.  The skull landed with a wet splat, slowly rolling along the forest floor.  The dew coating the grass was replaced with her blood…

As Sans recoiled in horror, he looked to Papyrus.  The other skeleton had blood splashed across the front of his suit, looking like a nightmare incarnated.  He mouth was latched over the bleeding stump that had been her neck.  As Sans watched he could hear little swallows and gulps coming from the monster’s throat.  He… he was drinking…

Finally Papyrus rose, stopping for breath and letting the corpse slip away from his chest. He lapped at his fingers, almost like he was trying to clean them.  It reminded Sans of how some humans would lick or suck at their fingertips after eating something that they particularly enjoyed.  How… how vile and disgusting!

“That wasn’t blood sucking!” he started to scream at the vampire.  “You just tore that lady’s fucking head off!”  Sans wasn’t sure what he was angrier at.  The violent death of the woman, or the fact that he was expected to take part in this… this “game”.  He decided that he wanted no part of it.  Papyrus should have left him to die in front of the villagers.

Papyrus seemed undisturbed by the mess and blood, just continued to suck on his fingers.  “IT’S FASTER THAT WAY,” he said with a small shrug.  “NOW YOU CAN DRINK IT. GO ON.” he encouraged, nodding to the still leaking corpse.

Sans recoiled further.  No way in hell… “NO!  I’m not gonna do that!  Gross!” he spat, glaring at the monster.  How dare he make him this way…

He was approaching him.  Sans scrambled back further.  “I said no-”

Papyrus jerked him to his feet, pulling him roughly towards him.  As Sans gasped in shock, his skull was tipped backwards, his mouth falling open, limp in shock.  Papyrus pushed forward, pressing their teeth together in a clanking kiss.  Soon, as if on instinct, their tongues were dancing and tangling together, deepening the kiss.  For the moment, Sans was stunned, staring up at the vampire.  He was quite a good kisser, Sans noted, his guard finally falling as the kiss continued.  His eyes slipped closed and he began to lean into the kiss, letting Papyrus take control.  He began to grip at Papyrus’s cloak, his legs feeling weak, his mind spinning in pleasure.  When they separated slightly for the smallest of breaths, Papyrus’ fingers tracing Sans’ jaw, forcing Sans to swallow.

His mouth suddenly tasting of iron.

Sans realized his mistake immediately and began to gag and gasp, trying to force his body to reject the so-called meal he had just been force-fed.  Already he could feel his magic absorbing the blood, changing it into fuel for him… already Sans felt sick to his stomach…

“I FEEL LIKE I’M SPOILING YOU TOO MUCH.” Papyrus said, watching Sans heave in front of him.  He spoke as people do like when they discuss the weather – calm and collected.  Like normal people spoke.  “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE MY SERVANT AND, HERE I AM, MOUTH FEEDING YOU… BUT I GUESS IT CAN’T BE HELPED.  AS LONG AS YOU’RE UNDER MY PROTECTION, I WILL TEACH HOW TO BE A VAMPIRE, AND HOW TO SERVE ME.”

Sans finished retching and glared up at Papyrus.  It was official.  This monster… this monster was crazy…

Yet he was somehow showing that he cared, even the slightest, little bit, for Red’s well-being.

How confusing.

“COME.  LET US GO HOME.”  Papyrus said suddenly, waving an arm above Red’s head.  As the smoke and magic circled and surrounded them, Sans began to steal stealthy glances towards the skeleton beside him.  His master.  His boss…  Sans may have only known him for a few, very short days but already knew that he was a total asshole.  One who was the complete embodiment of a vampire.  Greedy, selfish… powerful.  One who would never quit looking, hunting or searching for what he considered to rightfully belong to him, and wouldn’t stop until it did.  Red knew that this, the slightest show of gentleness, of him feeding him and watching over him, Red could already tell how uncharacteristic it was of him.

What had gotten into him?


	4. Chapter 4 - Coagulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus return to the castle from their successful hunting trip. As Sans ponders his new situation, Papyrus offers some rare information for him.

When they had returned to the castle the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting the world in a vibrant pink sky.  Sans had never believed the old rhymes but apparently this one rang true.  Red sky in the morning, blood shed in the evening.  Sans had shuddered, seeing the woman again die before his eyes.  Papyrus had ordered Sans to the room that he had just left, telling him to sleep off his meal before he too had disappeared, probably teleporting to his own room.  Grumbling to himself Sans had, throwing himself on the soft bed with his dress still on him.  For a few hours he tossed and turned, flipping between uneasy rest and awareness.  It must have been close to noon when Sans gave up on sleep and decided to wander the castle, without the watchful eye of his so-called master.

Sans explored the castle as Papyrus slept, his dress, still blood stained, swishing quietly around his ankles with every step.  His sockets were heavy and weary, but still refused to close.  Sans knew that he should have been in bed hours ago, much as Papyrus had ordered.  He just couldn’t sleep.  Sans was no stranger to insomnia, even as a “normal” monster, he had more nights than he could count that he laid awake in his bed, unable to sleep.  The doctors had told him many things.  Stress, eating habits, the amount of sunlight that he was getting.  This time though, he was sure that he could attribute it to something else, and it wasn’t just because the sun was high in the sky.

Sans was the sole son of the doctor Gaster.  As a Fell monster, he had been raised to be smart and cunning, efficient and deadly.  He supposed three of four wasn’t too bad.  He was no stranger to death.  Yet, every time he closed his sockets the eyes of the terrified woman flashed in front of him.  He could still see the life slowly draining from her, her eyes clouding and fogging, he could still see the rich, red blood spraying everywhere…

He hated how just the thought and the memory of it made him salivate, the fluids dripping down his teeth, his magic stomach grumble.

Had Papyrus’ magic turned him that much already?  Papyrus had mentioned that he had been asleep for a week after turning, but stars knew how much he had been asleep before then, when Papyrus had first saved him from the townspeople.

Heh.  A funny word.  Saved.  He had to snort at the thought.  Papyrus didn’t save him.  Sans could get a feeling on his new “master” already.  Papyrus wasn’t merciful, nor was he anything that could be known as charitable.  He simply saved Sans because he was looking for a new toy.  His own personal thrall… what a fucking joke.  Sans was about half sure that Papyrus had a harem hidden away, somewhere in his castle.  The building was big enough that none of the other members would cross paths, enabling him to keep them a secret from one another.  And it would explain how dress fit him perfectly.  He was unsure why but at the thought of the vampire lord having other prostitutes made his magical stomach freeze and his teeth clench.

Sans sighed before he turned to stare out one of the windows, looking over the secluded property.  His lack of a reflection at least provided him with a clear view of everything.  Papyrus was one for privacy it seemed.  All he could see was forest, and the very hint of the town in the distance.  No trouble at all to travel if one had teleportation powers as the vampire did.

The thrall sighed and tapped at his new teeth.  It could have been just his imagination but, just from that one feeding, his fangs seemed larger and thicker, more curved.

Perhaps he really was changing into some sort of a living weapon.

An odd smell was behind him.  It smelled of the signature chalky smell of bones, of blood and… was that coffee?

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT YOU WERE HUNGRY.  AS A NEW THRALL, ONCE YOU AWAKE YOU SHOULD CONSTANTLY HAVE A FULL STOMACH OR IT’LL STUNT THE TRANSFORMATION PROCESS.” A loud, booming voice came behind him.  Sans didn’t have to turn around to see who it was.

Papyrus gestured him forward with a large, almost theatrical sigh.  “COME ON AND FOLLOW ME.  I TOLD YOU THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE ATE MORE INSTEAD OF WHIMPERING AT THE EDGE OF THE CLEARING.  NOW I HAVE TO FEED YOU OUT OF MY SUPPLIES.  THE LEAST THAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE WAS GOTTEN CHANGED.”

Again, memories and visions of the dying woman appeared in front of Sans’ eyes.  The way that Papyrus spoke… he said it so naturally and carelessly, almost like a parent telling their children to eat more at supper…

Sans shook off the thought.  Papyrus cared nothing for him.  Just a new, shiny toy to play with.  Who knew what would happen to him after Papyrus got bored of him.

Choosing not to face Papyrus’ wrath, he quickly followed the count.

* * * * *

Sans poked at the slab of meat on his plate.  The steak had been sliced thick, the blood still oozing off of it.  He wanted to scoff at the offering.  This meat and blood was long since dead, purchased at a butcher store or farmer.  This wasn’t good enough for Sans.  He wanted fresh blood, warm blood, blood that showered him and Papyrus as the head pulled free of the neck.

Groaning, Sans picked up the steak and began to suckle on it, hunger overcoming his cautious instincts for the moment.  Ugh, the blood even tasted like old, rusted, iron.  Sans sighed, letting the steak fall to the plate with an unappetizing splat.  Even the noise sounded dead.  Papyrus made an impatient sound, gesturing for him to eat it.  Eyeing Papyrus out of the corner of his eye, he felt his thoughts return to him as he picked up the raw meat again.

Just who was Papyrus?  How did he end up here?  How did he tie into Gaster’s prophecy?  What the hell did that even mean?  Was it just like the rest of Sans’ life and death and just a complete joke or did it actually mean something?  And just why the fuck was he forced into wearing a fucking dress?  The colour didn’t even match his bones.

“YOUR THOUGHTS ARE VERY LOUD.  IF YOU WERE HUNTING YOU WOULD HAVE SCARED OFF ANY PREY WHO WAS SENSITIVE TO MIND READING,” Papyrus said, taking a sip of coffee from his mug.  “YOU’LL HAVE TO LEARN TO QUIET THEM…”

Sans growled.  This fucker had been playing with him, ever since the first day that he had saved him from certain death at the hands of the villagers and had continued to do so.  It drove Sans nuts.  Papyrus was rude, self-indulgent, cocky as hell, dressed him as a woman because he felt like it, and refused to let him lead any sort of remains of a normal life, all while dodging his questions with half answers, orders, or bullshit excuses.  It was beyond frustrating.  He felt like his doll.  Papyrus brought him out to play with, to look at, play tea party, but they always had to play things his way.  Never Sans’.  Well that needed to change.  He had had enough.  Dealing with Gaster was enough, he didn’t need this fucker doing the exact same thing.  Spitting out the meat, he glared at the vampire.

“If you can hear my thoughts, than you know damn well what I’m asking.” He snapped.  “And I need the answers to them if you expect me to live like this.”

Papyrus chuckled, the fucker actually had the audacity to chuckle at him.  “HOW IS IT THAT THE SAYING GOES?  THAT GOOD THINGS COME TO THOSE WHO WAIT?  BE PATIENT SANS AND YOU WILL DISCOVER THE ANSWERS ON YOUR OWN.” Sans grit his teeth.  “I AM ONLY YOUR TEACHER SANS.  I CAN ONLY GUIDE YOU.  NOW EAT UP, YOUR MAGIC IS GETTING WEAK.”

Sans stared down at his unappetizing meal.  “No.” he said, laying down his fork.

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?”

“You heard me.  No.  You don’t have any answers for me?  I don’t have any appetite.”  He watched on as Papyrus grit his teeth.  In the short time that Sans knew Papyrus, he knew that there was one thing that drove him crazy.

Lack of control.  He had to be in control of everything.  If he wasn’t… well.

“DON’T BE STUPID AND EAT YOUR GOD DAMN MEAL.” Papyrus ordered, watching him carefully.  Other than being surprised at being able to mention the holy figure, Sans did nothing.  Let him snarl and snap, he had no power here.

“Stupid is my middle name.” Sans taunted.  Papyrus was about to say more when Sans stopped him.  “But, I’ll make you a deal.  You answer the questions, and I’ll eat.”

The vampire glared at him, his teeth grinding together.  Sans knew that he had effectively wrecked any sort of bond between them, but he didn’t care.  It wasn’t until he turned to get off the chair that Papyrus responded.  “FINE.  I’LL ANSWER YOUR FUCKING QUESTION.  WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT TO KNOW?”

He could have asked about absolutely anything.  How old the vampire was, where he came from, how he became a thrall and why, or even asked him about the dress.  Instead, he asked none of that.  “Why did I respond to an ad to replace Father Timothy?” he asked, “Father Timothy was a leader.  Once he dusted, there should have been something said, something sent out.  Something said…” he said.

“THAT IS RATHER EASY TO ANSWER,” Papyrus told him, sipping more on his coffee.  “TO PUT IT SIMPLE, I KILLED HIM.”

“You killed him?” Sans demanded.  “But why?  Us monsters have been trying to make peace with the humans, avoid the next human-monster war…” The stakes were higher than ever.  If anything happened now, anything provoked the humans, then there was no hope for anyone.  The vampire growled at him slightly, nodding to his plate.  Ah right.  The deal…

Papyrus glared at him until he picked up a piece of meat and began to suckle on it.  “FOR ME TO FULLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, I WILL TO EXPLAIN THIS IN DEPTH.” He eyed Sans, making sure he was drinking.  “IN SHORT, FATHER TIMOTHY WAS A HYPOCRITE.”

“A hypocrite?” asked Sans, even more puzzled.  Of course the vampire would talk in riddles.

“YES.  HE SPOKE AND PRETENDED TO BE A MAN OF GOD, A MAN OF THE PEOPLE, OF FAITH… OF PEACE.  YET, THERE WAS SOMETHING THAT HE DID NOT TELL THE PEOPLE.  HE HIMSELF WAS A MONSTER.”  Papyrus carefully watched Sans.  “HE WAS ONE THAT WOULD LET THE PEOPLE SUFFER AS HE ATE OFF OF GOLDEN PLATES, THAT WOULDN’T SHARE HIS BANQUET WITH THE NEEDY… BY THE TIME I HAD GONE DOWN THERE TO CONFRONT HIM, TOO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED AND HE HAD GOTTEN DRUNK OFF OF THE POWER THAT HE HAD BEEN GIVEN.”  Papyrus shook his head.

“Well?  What happened?”

“I CONFRONTED HIM AND HE ATTACKED ME.” Papyrus said, folding his arms.  “TO THINK THAT I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, TRIED TO COME TO THE AID OF A BUNCH OF MORTALS…” he sighed, shaking his head.  “WHEN I FINALLY WAS ABLE TO SUBDUE HIM, IT WAS TOO LATE.  TIMOTHY HAD WORKED HIMSELF UP TO A FRIGHT AND HAD SUFFERED A MEDICAL EPISODE, DYING IN MY ARMS.”  Papyrus looked at Sans.  “HE HAD THE WEIRDEST MARK ON HIS ARM…”

An arm marking?  But…  Sans could see it now.  “A bird carrying the bolt of lightning in front of the fire.” he whispered.

Papyrus jolted, staring at him.  “YES… HOW DID YOU KNOW?”

“My father had one too.”


	5. Chapter Five - In the Thralls of a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red has just told Fell about the mark that his father had - the one linking Gaster to the previous priest of this town. However, Fell demands more questions than Red has answers for, and storms off angrily. Leaving Red alone in his bed, his head full of thoughts and blood and gore...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: HEAVY GORE, BLOOD, CHARACTER REANIMATION (slightly) AND CHARACTER DEATH
> 
> ALSO: to the commenter who wanted less blood/gore in a vampire fanfic (I deleted your comment) - No... how does that even work? It says right in my tags that there is blood and gore and character death... please read the reblogs of Eli's amazing work and read the tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a bit since I've written something for this story but I'm still trying to sort out my notes for what I wanted to occur here.

Red groaned, rubbing at his face.  He was all alone, back in the bedroom that he had first woke up in.  Mentally he felt exhausted, completely drained of life and energy.

 

How did so much happen in such little time?

 

First, he had woken up after his attempted murder and found himself changed to a thrall, now being owned by a vampire who likes to crossdress his new toys.  Very poor and inconsiderate choice of clothing too, Red had to add.  Where in the world where ruffles ever useful?  All they did was flutter around and get caught in your joints.

 

Secondly, the dream about his father?  Completely uncalled for.  He and his old man had never gotten along at the best of times, and coming up to his disappearance was no difference.  They knew exactly how to get on each other’s nerves, push each other’s buttons.  No, Red needed no reminder about Gaster.

 

Thirdly, the girl that was murdered.  The poor girl… as much as Fell as can sit there, shrug his broad shoulders and say the food is food, there was no reason… so much blood, so much destruction…

 

So much waste…

 

Fourth… and this was the one that really pissed him off.  Fell can sit there at the table describing the same mysterious tattoo that Gaster had (again, thank you universe for absolutely nothing), but the moment that Red says that he knows that his father had one similar, Fell wants to know everything.  Where did Gaster say he was going?  What did he do?  Did he know any of the codes or secret languages that he and the other members spoke?  Had he ever been introduced to these other members?  Descriptions?  Ages?  Occupation?  But the moment that Red says that he knows nothing, not the answer to the simplest question, Fell flips and shuts himself down.

 

Like, come on.  Is this not called a “Secret Society” for nothing?

 

So Fell had abandoned Red at the table to his disgusting meat while he stalked off and did whatever. 

 

Red sighed and rolled over in the bed, burying his skull in the soft fabrics, covering himself with the thick blankets.  He didn’t know why the vampire’s obvious disappointment in him cut him so deeply.  Nor was he sure why, after everything that he had witnessed and the pathetic meal that he had just had, why he was still hungry… the meat was just completely unappetizing to him.  Perhaps something more like sushi would be better suited to his tastes?

 

Or perhaps the tender kiss of a soft vampire tongue, covered in warm human blood?

 

Red shivered slightly at the thought before shaking his head.  What on Asgore’s green earth was wrong with him?  Lately, his mind had been consumed with thoughts of the vampire lord.

 

He fell asleep, the yearning for blood drowning his dreams.

 

* * * *

 

The girl was alive again, but this time she was struggling in his arms.  Hands and arms weakly hit at him, trying to shake him off.  Her feet digging into the ground, trying to pull herself away from him.  Stupid bitch tried to fight him off.  Keep him from what was rightfully his.  Like she had anything to say in the matter.  She was walking alone in the dark castle, asking for it.  After all, who goes exploring at night? 

 

Everyone knows that is when the demons come out to play.

 

Especially the dark, gothic castle that everyone knows is haunted by the damned and undead.

 

Yes, this human girl, looking for her so-called lover, she was a very special brand of stupid indeed.  She had thought that she and the boy would end up tangled in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of this cruel, cruel world.  How absolutely pathetic.  How dense did one have to be to assume that someone would risk their own neck for a few minutes of soiled pleasure?  She deserved to die.  To feed the superior beings.

 

Red chuckled, his own fangs unsheathing in the low candlelight.  Her eyes widened and she began to struggle with renewed interest.  Her voice alternated between prayers and begs, and screams.  Tears freely flowing down her sweaty cheeks, her attacks becoming more wild and unruly.  Yes, let her struggle and fear…. The meat and blood always tasted best that way.  Fully saturated with the taste of the last plights of life.  But she didn’t know that just yet…

 

Finally, tiring of this silly game, Red decided to put her out of her misery.  Yanking her forward towards him, his fangs plunged into her neck.  Her hands were on his shoulders now, beating and pushing, still hoping for one chance at escape.

 

The poor fool… she had missed her chance.  The only way that she could escape him is if she had never set foot on the castle grounds to begin with.

 

Her blood was sour on his tongue, causing him to snarl.  These human females and the pills and drink they took.  It soured the flesh…

 

Now he would have to dig even deeper.

 

Snarling, he withdrew his hands from her neck, watching as the blood poured from her wound.  Let the soiled blood flow… let it clean the flesh… clean his meal….

 

Fingers digging into the back of her shoulders, puncturing her enough to draw beads of blood, he yanked her towards him again.  He bit down on her neck again, this time pulling out a chunk of the flesh and spitting it to the ground, not even bothering to taste her blood again.  The bite had not even fallen with he struck again, and again, chunks of flesh and peelings of skin slowly collecting around them as he moved from her neck to her collarbone.

 

He was hungry… and her screams were getting annoying.

 

A single finger dug into her flesh under her jawline.  Her hand reached up as she yowled, still pleading for her life and promises to never return, or even to return with an offering of cattle or sheep.  Foolish girl… he wanted none of that.  If they had been raised by her or her family, they too would have been poisoned by feed or leftovers or drugs.  With a careless tug, he lurched it across her neck, spilling her blood around him.  Her eyes showed only white as she miraculously screamed.  Her blood flood in uneven globs around them, but that wasn’t the best part.  The red mist of her blood gas sprayed the wall and even the ceiling, coating the air in a thick metallic scent.  This display gave him satisfaction for only a split second before it was replaced by a different feeling.  It was similar to hunger and need, but darker, more energizing.  One that only fueled his primal need for more blood and fear.

 

Her blood flow began to slow as her blood pressure decreased, her own body’s safety mechanisms working against her. Finally, after long last, her screams slowly faded into a muffled gurgle, and a soft, defeated sigh escaped her throat.  Her hands, slowed their desperate fight before sagging down the front of his chest, her neck and head flopping backwards.  The light slowly faded from her eyes.

 

But it still wasn’t enough.  He could see now that her arms were riddled with needle marks.  No wonder she had tasted so foul.  Yet he couldn’t let this meal waste.  He would have to do something else.  Her body was still sour and sick and he was so hungry…

 

His fingers jerked suddenly and with great force, pulling her arms from her shoulders as a human de-winged a chicken.  There was a small crunch of shattering cartilage before they came free in his arms.  These weren’t what he was looking for though.  He flung the extremities to the side, barely listening as they landed with a soft thud to the wall and floor.

 

Not paying any heed to them now, considering them waste, his fingers pulled the clothing from her body, exposing her body to him.  Red rumbled looking at the smooth skin of her torso.  How it differed from the tack marked arms.

 

He did not delight in her body.  He did not care for her perky breasts or trim waist.  Nor was he drawn to her curved hips or firm buttocks…

 

No… he needed her blood… nothing else from her.

 

Moving down the rest of her body, Red bit and scratched and spat, the blood slowly draining from her as he forced injuries upon her useless, lifeless body.

 

The ceiling and walls were almost brown and black with blood, small droplets of the thick flood slowly dripping down the walls, falling from the ceiling.  Little clots were already forming around the waste, they would make excellent food for his pet bats later on… and still, he wasn’t satisfied.

 

It wasn’t until he stood in a deep puddle of her blood that the fluid from her body began to smell slightly sweet.  Nose twitching, he pressed his nasal cavity into one of her wounds and gave a great sniff.  Her body was completely unrecognizable now.  Her white skin had been torn and slashed, great sheets missing from her body.  Chunks of her flesh all over her body were missing, riddling her body with little craters.

 

And her poor little neck was completely destroyed. If not for the remains of her skull, no one would know who or what this once was.

 

At last, Red was satisfied with his meal.  The poisons that she had been injected her body with and swallowing her gone, leaving behind only the worthy blood.

 

With a grateful sigh, Red sank his fangs into her body once more… and began to drink.

 

* * * * *

 

Fell withdrew his hand from Red’s skull, chuckling as the thrall gave a soft sigh, the smaller skeleton still dreaming that he was sucking on a human’s corpse.  Such was the power of a vampire lord – able to slip into the minds of his minions at will.  Usually, he had thought himself above such tactics, but tonight he had been more than a little concerned with his creation.  Only for him to find that he himself had nothing to fear.  He had been right all along about his little thrall.  Underneath the fearful little pansy, there was the heart and mind of a mighty hunter, one worthy of the title of vampire…

 

Though he would have to teach him how to rein in his overkill.

 

“Sleep well, little one,” he softly cooed, doing his best not to wake him.  Gently, he placed a bloody steak in the thrall’s hands, mindful of the frills and lace of the dress.  Still, he couldn’t help the sinister grin watching as he sank his new fangs into it immediately.  Thralls never forgot their first taste of human blood or steak.  “You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shoot me a kudos and a comment! I love hearing from people!


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